Ivory Tower
by Natalie Vender
Summary: When a Calormene seeks refuge at Cair Paravel, the Kings and Queens aren't all sure they can trust her. Edmund's own recent past makes him hesitant to trust anyone who might breach Narnia's safety and security. Will she gain their trust or bring about inevitable war?
1. Prologue

**~Author's Note: Narnia and her beautiful Creatures belong to C.S. Lewis - based on the movies by Walt Disney Pictures and Walden Media. Caria and her family belong solely to me~**

**Prologue**

Night had fallen hours ago and the stars twinkled unobstructed over the Narnian woods. The Eastern Sea lay a good kilometer away and Caria had managed to find a small, relatively sheltered clearing in the woods to rest the night before she made the final stretch in the morning. Halfway through her journey she realized she was headed for Cair Paravel and now that it was in reach she was worried she wouldn't be welcomed. Worse, she feared they would escort her sternly back to Calormen and the father and life she was desperately trying to escape.

She slumbered on the ground, the dawn still hours away. She hadn't had a peaceful, restful night since entering Narnia's borders. The air was colder here, the nights colder still, and she was in desperate want of a warmer cloak or even the skill in lighting a proper fire. She could pass the nights well enough in the shade of a large tree or cave, away from the biting wind of oncoming winter, but it was her mind and dreams she couldn't escape, no matter how hard she tried. A presence seemed to linger at the back of her mind every time she shut her eyes and it disturbed her from her sleep each night.

Tonight was no different.

Caria's eyes flew open and she immediately recognized the outline of trees and branches reaching overhead in a canopy that blotted out the stars, and relaxed slightly. Something continued to feel off and anxiety gripped her chest. The night was too silent, the trees too still.

She slipped her hand into her sword's handguard, curling her fingers tightly around the grip. Feigning sleep, she listened carefully to her surroundings. For a long, tense moment there was nothing. Then a twig cracked to her right and her breath caught. She kept her eyes shut, breathing in slowly and steadily, as heavy footsteps approached.

With a start, she drew her sword up and sat up slightly - and paused abruptly, gasping. A large man-ish figure stood before her, his own sword pointing down and easing her back to the ground. Caria stared at him a moment before dropping her blade. She looked both amazed and startled at once.

"State your name," the Centaur demanded.

"A talking man-horse," Caria breathed, eyes wide with mild amusement. "I must be in Narnia."

The Centaur did not seem amused. His frown deepened, dark lines etching his high forehead. "What is your name and what is your business?" he asked again.

"My name is Caria," she answered, her heavy accent lengthening the vowels of her name and rolling the 'r.' "I seek refuge at Cair Paravel."


	2. Trespassing

**~Author's Note: Regular Credits Apply. Also I have no idea what things look like, etc. in Calormen. This is all my imagination.~**

**Two Weeks Earlier**

"Caria! Come. We're leaving."

Caria glanced up from the low fence where she sat. A shaded carriage had been fetched for her father and he leaned out the door, beckoning impatiently for her. He gave her a stern look as she turned around and deliberately made a show of sliding off the fence and slowly picking up her satchel. The dark-haired boy beside her nudged her in the ribs as she stood up.

"You better go," he laughed, grinning at her clear displeasure. "You know how he is when you've kept him waiting."

"Stop it." She squirmed, hitching the bag over her shoulder. "He's upset with me today, and 'tis all your fault."

"My fault?" the boy repeated, sliding down from the fence to face her. "I merely occupied your time while he talked business." He waved a hand dismissively, as though the notion of the girl getting into trouble was ill-founded.

Caria shoved his shoulder, ignoring her father as he snapped at her again. "Quiet," she warned. "I was meant to be a part of his discussions today. He wants me to take his place someday." She spoke softly; she feared if the words were overheard, the repercussions would be swift and harsh by the people the likes of which her father spent half of his time discussing "business." They did not like her father and they certainly did not like his less-than-enthusiastic protege.

"His business is vulgar," the boy said with a despairing glower. "It does not suit you."

Caria risked a slight grin. "I know it, and he knows as well," she whispered. "He tries to change my mind."

The boy rested a hand on Caria's shoulder. It was a tender touch, meant to reassure Caria, but she stiffened under the watchful gaze of her father nearby. "I pray he doesn't," he said quietly.

"Caria! Now!"

The boy dropped his hand quickly, as though just remembering who was watching them. He turned so his back was facing Caria's father, and gave the girl a sly grin from the side. She adjusted the strap on her shoulder and, hitching up her skirts, clambered over the fence in a rather unladylike fashion. Thankfully her mother, nestled into the carriage, had not seen. Rather, her father went red in the face and disappeared inside the caravan. She tossed the satchel into the caravan and pulled herself up, dropping into the seat across from her parents. The attendant shut the door and climbed up onto the bench behind the horses, spurring them on.

"Caria, dear," her mother said with that dazzling smile characteristic of most Calormene noble women. Her family was not noble, but they were important dignitaries, holding a special rank under the Tisroc, may he live forever. They indulged in the luxurious life of those above the general peasantry and mere merchants, and her mother was one of the most beautiful woman Caria had even seen, even more so than the Tisroc's own daughters. "I bought this for you from the market." With a smile, she produced a small glass vial from the folds of her gown and held it out to Caria.

Caria took it carefully and turned it over in her hands. She recognized the craftsmanship and, with a thoughtful smile playing across her lips, she unstoppered it and sniffed the lotion. It was a strong, bitter scent, with hints of rose and cinnamon.

"I know you have been wanting this lotion since our last visit," her mother continued, pleased by her daughter's reaction.

Caria nodded, delighted that her mother had remembered. It had been many months since their last visit to the capital, and that for a yearly celebration in honour of the Tisroc himself. Caria had been wandering the market, whose best wares were presented that day. The merchant told her this lotion would perfect any flaw on Caria's skin with one dab, and it was not all too terrible to smell.

"That?" her father exclaimed. "It's made from camel dung, you must know." He scoffed.

"I know," Caria said slowly, corking the bottle again. "But also a delightful soap, milk, rose, and cinnamon. Cinnamon, father," she repeated, watching him keenly. Cinnamon was a rare spice in these lands. "This is a rare gift. Thank you, mother."

"You should not be wasting money on such a…" her father said, looking at Caria consideringly, "disappointment."

Her mother drew in a breath. Caria could see she wanted to reprimand her husband, but instead she put on a charming smile and shook her head. "Caria is young still, Visov. She has much to learn."

Caria revealed no reaction to her father's insult, having heard them almost daily since it was revealed her mother would bear no more children and not give her father a son. Being called a "disappointment" was mild in comparison to some other choice words he used when truly angry at her.

"She _is _learning," Visov remarked sharply. "She is supposed to be learning. Instead she blatantly ignores my wishes and embarrasses me in front of other delegates. This is a delicate business, Caria. I cannot have you making a fool of me."

Caria sat back against the seat, holding the bottle firmly between her hands. "I do not want to be a part of your 'business,' father," she said through her teeth. "It is, how would you say, unbecoming." She threw her learning back in his face with a dark grin. She was not a lady and she was not a son. She had no interest in all things ladylike and her father's business disgusted her. She would not continue it for him.

"It is all you will have, daughter," he said. "When you marry, your husband will do all the hard work for you. You would not have to raise a finger and all the men in this land will be falling down at your feet in service."

"In servitude," Caria muttered. "I will not raise slaves like lambs for slaughter. And I will not marry whomever you throw my way."

Visov leaned across the small compartment and cracked his hand against his daughter's cheek. His wife made a small noise of protest as he stared at Caria darkly. "You will have no choice. Understand?"

His look dared her to argue.

"Perfectly, _father_," she said, matching his gaze. A bright flush reddened her cheek, but she would not satisfy her father by rubbing the lotion on the mark.

They travelled away from the city in silence, Caria's mother fusing uselessly with her silken gown for long minutes until the road turned bumpy. Caria hated to put her in such a position, but her and her father's views were so different that they often fought. Caria loved her mother, sometimes wishing she could be as composed as her when tempers flared. Her mother knew when to keep silent, and Caria had never developed that skill.

And other times, it angered Caria that her mother was so compliant.

"Caria," her mother said, turning from the window to smile again at her. Her smile was so easy and the care in her eyes was bright. "Let us see what you bought today." She gestured at Caria's leather satchel next to her.

"Oh," Caria said, reaching for the bag. "Vaman and I did not go the market. We went elsewhere and found these. The man was giving them away freely. Are they not beautiful?" She pulled out pieces of faded parchment, on which were painted a series of landscapes in bright pigments. The pictures - high mountains in grey and white, low valleys in green and yellow, and vast shores in blue and gold - had caught Caria's eye immediately and the elderly man offered to let her have them, if she promised to treasure them always and present them in her home where they would be visible to all. She promised, and even tried to pay for them. The man refused stubbornly and she thanked him profusely. Later, she returned with Vaman and a hot drink from the market for the man.

"These are most beautiful," her mother agreed, looking through them. "He would accept no money for them?"

Caria shook her head. "He was most kind, mother. And these paintings...do such places exist? So vibrant and lovely?"

Visov scoffed again. "Not likely. Krista, do not indulge her fantasies. It will do her no good."

"I would like to believe so," Krista said with a small smile to her husband. "Perhaps you would have to travel far to see such places."

"I would want to make that journey one day," Caria said quietly. "Across the Great Desert, to Narnia! Perhaps these paintings are from there!"

"Perhaps so," Krista said kindly.

Grumbling, Visov snatched the paintings from his wife and crumpled them in his hands, tucking them away in his own bag. "The last anyone heard of Narnia, it would cursed in eternal winter," he hissed. Caria's eyes went wide as she watched her treasures become ruined by her father's hands. "When we get home, Caria, you are not to leave the house for a sennight hence. You acted selfishly and foolishly today and the time indoors will teach you a valuable lesson."

Caria ground her teeth, looking away angrily. She was used to her father locking her away in her room, and that is not what made her angry. That he had taken her pictures and ruined them caused tears to well in her eyes. It would only have been worse if he had tore them to pieces.

The carriage rolled over loose stones as it travelled down a worn path between stubby trees towards a compound of similar-looking houses set far back from the main road. The land lots were separated from each other by a line of short trees and bushes and one house was indistinguishable from the next. They were all low, with flat roofs, and arches in front of the doors. The caravan stopped in the wide circular path, from which other paths led to the five houses in the compound. Caria was last out of the caravan, carefully placing the glass vial into her bag. Her father and mother were walking quickly down the path towards their house at the far end of the compound. Visov was talking loudly, gesturing, as Krista pulled her bright scarf around her neck, smiling and nodding attentively. Caria followed them, turning back and waving as the carriage attendants spurred the horses down the lane.

Inside, Caria moved into her room at the back without a word to her father or mother. Her nightclothes had been laid out for her on her bed, with a fresh bowl of warm water by the foot of her bed for washing up. The smell of sweet bread wafted through the house, carried up by the gentle breeze that stole through the open windows. Tossing her bag on the bed, Caria took out the vial and placed it upon the dresser before turning to the window. She pulled back the thick, richly coloured curtains, and leaned out, taking a deep breath. The small garden beneath her window was well-tended by her mother and the gardener and the scents of the flowers within chased away the lingering smells of the market. She looked out towards the farthest reaches of the compound - a new house was being built towards the back, where the land dipped suddenly into a dry valley. The new house had a wall around it with three levels; each level of the wall had a small ledge that overlooked the cavern below. Ivy and thick bushes grew in the spaces between the rocks, shielding view of the wall from the house. Caria had her mind set to walk along that wall and tempt fate, and she decided the adventure would be best suited for after nightfall, when her father would be asleep and not catch her.

Dinner was served shortly before nightfall and Caria took it in her room. After finishing, without a word to her parents, she moved into the library. The room was her favourite, full of rich tomes and brightly coloured maps. Many of the books were historical volumes, but Caria did not mind the history lessons. They told, briefly, of how Narnia was founded by the Great Lion, but the majority of the book focused solely on Calormene history, with many references to the Tisroc, may he live forever, and their god Tash, who was said to be the Great Lion's father and real Creator of all in this world. Caria enjoyed reading these books but tonight she had her mind set on one topic: Narnia itself. She imagined the paintings were of places in Narnia from before the cursed winter and she wanted to see these places herself. So she grabbed a rome, curled up in a chair, and began reading.

Some time into the night, Caria was startled awake by one of the servants attempting to drape a rough blanket over her shoulders. The tapers were burning low and the book she had been reading had upended on the floor. The young maid stepped back quickly, apologizing for having startled m'lady. Caria smiled at her and tugged the blanket around her shoulders as she set her feet on the floor. She placed the book back on the shelf and turned to the girl.

"Would m'lady like some tea before she retires?" the girl asked, bowing her head.

"No, thank you, Fanna," Caria said. "Can you keep a secret for me?"

The girl looked up sharply, not quite sure how to respond. "Yes, of course, m'lady."

"I am going outside for a walk. If my father wakes, tell him I returned to my chambers."

Fanna looked confused, but nodded. "Will you like an escort? It is quite dark out tonight. The stars are not shining."

Caria shook her head. "I am not going far. Light a candle in my window and I will find my way back. I will return before daybreak."

"Yes, m'lady," Fanna said, bowing her dark head again. She followed Caria back to her room, looking surprised when Caria discarded the blanket, doned a cloak, and pushed aside the curtain, hitching her leg over the sill. "M'lady, should you not use the door?" she whispered.

"My father is not to know I've left the house," Caria said. "The door will wake him."

"M'lady," Fanna said hesitantly. She disliked going against her master's wishes. "Are you not allowed to leave, by your father's wishes?"

Caria smiled at Fanna and slipped off the window, bounding across the lawns before the maid could persuade her otherwise. She glanced back to see Fanna was lighting the candle as she had asked.

Turning away from the house, Caria deeply breathed in the fresh air. It smelled of fresh flowers, baked bread, and rich soil. Caria had always like the smell of Calormene air. It smelled just like the city - always fresh, always different. It was sweet and spicy and made her mouth water.

Under the cover of nightfall, Caria slipped between the bushes marking the boundary of her house and carefully made her way to the wall surrounding the house being built at the far end of the compound. Caria knew that even though the houses were close together, trespassing was a high offence, and she was wary of the repercussions should she be caught. But no one resided in this house yet and she believed those laws did not apply to places with no owners.

Still, she made sure no one was within sight as she stepped out onto the wall. The valley dipped away suddenly, revealing a long fall down a steep slope into a dry riverbed. Craggy rocks scoured the bottom and Caria held her breath. Her mother would be appalled to see her now. Smiling to herself, Caria walked carefully along the curve of the wall.

Turning the corner towards the back of the house, Caria stopped abruptly, catching her breath. A soldier in the Tisroc's army faced away from her, sword glinting in the dim light of the moon as a cloud overhead passed by, bathing the whole compound in a dull light.

Quietly Caria turned around. He hadn't spotted her yet - perhaps she could still get away.

At that moment, another soldier came around the bend in front of her. He spotted her immediately and drew his sword. Caria bit her tongue, glancing over her shoulder. The ring of his sword had alerted the first soldier and he turned. Caria looked up - the next wall was too high for her to climb over.

She stood still as the guards approached.

* * *

"You were trespassing?" Visov shouted.

Less than five minutes later, Caria had been escorted back home and her family awakened. Her father was in a fit, pacing the floor before her, as the two soldiers stood a little behind her, as if they expected her to try to run. "You were caught trespassing," her father said again. "On the Tisroc's property!"

Caria had no words, and stared on. Her mother stood to the side, looking at Caria sadly.

"Do you have any idea how damaging that is to my reputation? What will people say when they find out you were caught trespassing?"

"Visov," Krista spoke up. "Just vouch for her. Tell the court it was an honourable mistake and no harm was meant."

"A mistake?" Visov cried. "Do you truly think it was a mistake she was trespassing in the middle of the night when I had said she was not to leave the house? She left for the sole purpose to go to that house."

"I did not know it was property of the Tisroc," Caria said finally.

"It was trespassing nonetheless!" Her father ran his hands through his hair. "I will not vouch for her. Sirs, you may take her in the morning to the court."

Caria gasped loudly as her mother made a noise of protest. "Visov, please," Krista pleaded. "Do not send her away. She is your only child."

Visov glanced at Caria, who was fighting tears, and said, "Not anymore." He turned and left without another word.

Krista put a hand to her mouth, looking at Caria. Caria swallowed, choked out an apology to her mother, and then retreated to her room. The candle had been extinguished and Caria wondered where Fanna had gone.

Then she heard the whip cracks and Fanna's pained cries.


	3. Refuge

**~Author's Note: Regular Credits Apply, etc., etc.~**

She had left Calomen that night, slipping out of the window and stealing through the dark before the soldiers realized she had left. She wished now, almost a fortnight later, that she had said goodbye to her mother, but there had been no time, and she would not risk her mother getting into trouble if she knew where Caria had gone. She had hastily packed a bag and was gone before an alarm had been raised. Part of her wondered now if they were searching for her, or even, as she was being escorted by a Centaur and two Fauns to Cair Paravel, whether she had made the right choice.

The Centaur had sent on ahead a Bird, probably to rouse the King for an audience. Caria had heard of Narnians and their monarchs - barbarians and savages alike. The animals all talked, as far as Caria could tell. And there were any number of other magic creatures - the Archenlanders hadn't given specifics when Caria asked, but they all talked highly of the Kings and Queens. It seemed only the Calormenes Caria had known disliked Narnia and all her inhabitants. But Caria would soon see for herself if the Kings and Queens were truly as magnificent as others had said.

The Centaur walked in front of Caria and the girl was amazed by the steadiness and ease with which he walked. Caria had seen many horses before, but none so sure-footed and graceful as the half-beast in front of her. The hair on his flanks seemed almost smooth to touch - though Caria would do no such thing - and he didn't lumber through the underbrush as a regular horse would have. He had two swords strapped to his back and Caria realized he would fight well in a battle - he did not need to grip the reins of a horse and could wield both weapons at once. Caria could imagine him in battle - tall and proud, next to his King. It was a grand image, one that kept her mind occupied as they trudged the remaining kilometer to Cair Paravel.

The sun was beginning to rise when the Cair came into view. Caria could hear the gulls crying over the sea as the trees thinned and gave way to the wide path leading towards the palace. To their right stretched a long golden beach, the waves of the Eastern Ocean lapping against the sand. The sun, low over the horizon, glistened upon the water, and Caria thought she recognized the view, as if from a dream. As she looked away, towards the Cair, movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention back to the sea. Nothing had changed, and Caria saw no figures rising up out of the water, but she got a chill, as though the presence that kept her up at night had manifested itself in the ocean.

The palace seemed to rise up out of the cliff itself, the hill sloping down to meet the beach. There were many levels and balconies and towers and turrets; Caria had a hard time looking at any one thing before her attention was drawn to another part of the palace. It was better than the Tisroc's palace in every sense. Grander, bigger; it was more beautiful and more pure to look at. Caria felt safe even in its shadows.

Caria was silently led through the halls by the Centaur, who walked without pausing. Everything in the palace was bright and airy; all the staircases were low and wide, the halls wide and tall, to accommodate all sorts of creatures. Caria saw Mice running to and fro, Birds building nests on high ledges, even a Dog and big Cat. All paused to watch this stranger pass through their domain. Caria held her head a little higher.

The Centaur took her to the throne room, a wide open space with marbled pillars, a great domed ceiling, and a breath-taking glass window behind the thrones, on which was depicted what was most certainly the creation of Narnia, with the Great Lion at the topmost centre. The four thrones themselves sat atop a raised platform. Gold accented the pillars, the thrones; everywhere Caria looked, the motif of the Great Lion looked down on her. She felt chilled as she stopped at the front of the platform. Only one throne was occupied, and the Centaur bowed to the boy-king. His golden crown was askew on his yellow head and he appeared to still be waking.

"High King Peter," the Centaur said. "We found this Calormene just inside the woods. She is asking for refuge here at Cair Paravel." He stood aside to present Caria.

The girl stepped forward and smoothly knelt to one knee, bowing her head. She had many years of practice bowing to the Tisroc, when he paraded around the city. You always moved out of his way and you always dipped your head. This boy, as young as he may appear, deserved no less.

"Rise, friend," King Peter said, and when Caria straightened and looked at him, she saw he was fighting a yawn. "What causes you to seek refuge at Cair Paravel?" he asked.

Caria regarded him a moment. He was young, hardly older than herself, with a mop of yellow hair on his head and the lilting accent common to all Narnians. He spoke regally, but kindly, as though he truly cared for what she had to say.

"The...slave trade, sir. In Calormen," she added uselessly. It had already been noted she was from Calormen - and it was obvious, her skin shades darker than the darkest Centaur here. Did everyone here have such pale skin?

King Peter frowned, and Caria understood the expression plainly. He thought if she was escaping the slave trade, she would bring them here to his land in order to claim her. Nania was already on unsteady terms with Calormen and Caria feared she had jeopardized her chances of finding refuge. What Caria didn't know was that they had already tried to abolish the Calormene slave trade, with no success. They could not afford war if that's what Caria's presence was sure to bring.

"You escaped your master?" King Peter pressed.

"No, sire," Caria said with a little shake of her head. "I escaped my father, and in doing so escaped a fate worse than death. I did not intend to threaten Narnia's safety by coming here. I…" She took a breath and bowed her head again, realizing her folly too late. "I apologize, Your Majesty."

Caria was surprised when the King smiled. "You have no need to apologize for something that has not happened," he said. "You are a cousin of Narnia, as all of Aslan's creatures are, and therefore welcomed. We will do all that is in our power to keep you safe. Oreius will have a room readied for you. Until then, I ask you kindly to join my brother and sisters and I for our morning meal, as our humbled guest."

You also did not refuse a king.

The Centaur, Oreius by name, called for someone to prepare a room for Caria as the girl accepted the King's offer. He descended from the throne, offering Caria a friendly smile as he led her out of the throne room.

**~Thank you all so much for reading and following! Remember: Comments are always welcome and appreciated!~**


	4. Lunch

**~ Author's Note: Regular Credits Apply. Sorry for the delayed update. I have been busy with a summer class. Enjoy and please don't forget to comment!~**

"How are you liking Narnia?" the youngest Queen, a soft, youthful girl called Queen Lucy, asked around a bite of toast.

They were in a long dining hall, occupying the few seats at the head of the table. None of them, save for King Peter, wore their crowns, and they were surprised by King Peter's invitation to Caria. The youngest Queen had taken an instant liking to Caria and the meal was not as tense as Caria feared. The youngest King, however, chewed his toast in discontent silence, watching their guest as if she could kill them. The other Queen sat on the other side of Caria, content but wary. Only Queen Lucy and King Peter attempted to make conversation.

"It is magnificent, my Queen," Caria answered. She felt at ease with Lucy - Vamar had a little sister her age she often spent time with. Lucy was easy to talk to and quick to laugh. "Everything is so bright and lively, even in the darkest hours of night."

"It is wonderful," Lucy agreed, as though she herself was viewing Narnia anew through the eyes of a stranger. "Have you truly never been before?"

"No," Caria said with a smile. "I was told Narnia was under a curse of eternal winter."

Lucy smiled, revealing a small gap in her teeth that only children of her age still had. Again Caria was amazed by the youth of Narnia's Majesties. "It was like that when we arrived," she said. 'But Aslan ended the winter and brought back spring."

"The Great Lion," Caria said, recognizing the name. "I've heard he is as wonderful as the legends say."

"Oh, he is!" Lucy exclaimed. King Peter and the older Queen, Susan, nodded their agreement, eating from an assortment of fruits and potatoes as their sister entertained their guest.

"You have seen him?"

"Yes," Lucy breathed. "He crowned us here almost a year ago."

"I didn't think Calormenes believed in Aslan," King Peter spoke up. In the daylight spanning across the room from the high open windows, Caria was again shocked by the pale colour of his hair. She had never seen hair so pale; it caught the sunlight and appeared as spun gold beneath his crown.

"That is not to say we have no heard legends," Caria answered. "I learned the histories from my tutors, but for us Tash is the Creator of all."

The younger King, Edmund, scoffed. "Do all Calormenes ignore Aslan's existence by choice, or does the Tisroc force you to believe such posh?"

"Edmund," Queen Susan chastised, and even in her offended state, Caria couldn't help but noticed they addressed each other, not as monarchs, but siblings.

"What?" King Edmund snapped across the table. "She's a Calormene. They aren't exactly our friends, and now she's pretending she's heard of Aslan. You invited a Calormene to breakfast, Peter. Next she'll be stealing battle plans and selling them to the Tisroc's army."

"Edmund," Queen Susan said again, with more force this time.

"I have no intention of returning there, Your Majesty," Caria said after a moment's hesitation.

"So you'll darken our home until they come and cause a war or take you back themselves." King Edmund laid down his fork and stood, excusing himself brashly.

Lucy, seeing Caria's guilt-ridden frown, covered the girl's hand with her own. "You'll have to excuse our brother," she said, glancing towards the door.

"He has a problem with anyone who might betray Narnia," King Peter explained.

"I assure you, my King and Queens, I will do no such thing." She bowed her head, as if she could hide from the guilt she felt.

"It's Edmund you'll have to convince of that," the King said. "As for us, we have no doubt."

"You would trust a stranger so quickly?" Caria mumbled into her plate.

Lucy giggled. "We were once strangers here in Narnia," she said. "But everyone trusted us."

"No one would risk the Tisroc's wrath unless they had good reason," King Peter said.

"You're obviously scared, Caria," Queen Susan added, resting a hand on Caria's shoulder. "You trust us to help you, and for that we will return the favour and trust you will not turn your back on us."

Breakfast ended when the Centaur reappeared and announced a room was ready for Caria. Queen Lucy offered to escort Caria there and together they followed the Centaur, Lucy chatting away happily. She told Caria all about the Talking Animals, and Caria listened attentively, nodding politely to the ones Lucy pointed out to her on the way to the West Wing. There was many more than Caria could have imagined, including such as she had no known even existed: there were Badgers and Beavers and Cats and bats and Satyrs and Centaurs and Dryads and Naiads and, yes, Caria even caught glimpse of a pure white Unicorn. A Faun stood outside the door to Caria's room and the Centaur left them with a brief nod to Queen Lucy.

Queen Lucy followed Caria into the room, looking around at the sparse furniture and the even sparser bags laying on the wide bed. "Is this all you brought?" she asked.

"I left in a hurry," Caria answered. "I was not able to pack much."

"You've so little clothes," Lucy wondered. "We will have the seamstresses make some up for you."

"Your Majesty, that is quite the offer, but -"

Queen Lucy held up a hand. "It's not a problem, Caria. You will have new dresses."

Caria smiled a little as she began unpacking the bag. She had two pairs of trousers and one tunic she had quickly packed the night she left, including the clothes she wore. They had been her only companions in the two weeks it took her to cross into Narnia. The only other things in her bag were the bottle of lotion and -

"What are these?" Queen Lucy asked, detangling a crumpled piece of paper from the clothes Caria was putting away.

Caria sat next to her and pulled the others out of her bag. She unfolded them, spreading them on the bedsheet for Lucy to see. Lucy made a small gasping noise.

"I got these from the Tashbaan market the day I left," Caria said. "I do not know where they are from, but they are the most beautiful places I have ever seen."

"Why, they're from Narnia, of course!" Lucy exclaimed.

"Truly?" Caria asked, amazed she had been correct in guessing. The colours, despite being faded from age, were too beautiful to be from anywhere else.

"I recognize them," Lucy said. She pointed at the first of five paintings - the golden shore. "That is right outside Cair Paravel, see?" She named the different locations, saying she had been to them all: Beruna, where a great battle had taken place the previous year; Aslan's Howe and the Stone Table where the Deep Magic had been tested; the White Witch's castle, which was nestled between two tall mountains; a grand waterfall, which made Lucy laugh and she said they had to cross while it was melting; and -

And here Lucy gave pause. Her finger lingered a moment on the last picture and a far away look glazed over her eyes. Caria had found that painting the most unassuming, and thought the stories Lucy told of the other paintings were delightful, frightening, and exciting tales. She thought this one was going to be the best story.

But Lucy just smiled and simply said, "A lamppost." She turned immediately to look at Caria's clothes, disappointing the other girl. "What are _those_?"

"Trousers," Caria answered, following her gaze. Lucy gave her a scandalized look. "I do not...enjoy wearing dresses."

"But," Lucy said, eyes wide as she probably tried to imagine wearing clothes like her brothers. "You've never worn a Narnian dress before, though. The seamstresses will make you many and you will see how nice they are." She got to her feet and began twirling in the middle of the floor. "See?" she called, giggling. The rich velvet dress of girl and silver fanned out and then swirled around her ankles when she came to a stop. "Can't do that with trousers."

Caria smiled at Lucy. "Neither can you climb trees in a dress."

Lucy put her hands on her hips. She simply did not understand why a girl would not want to wear a dress, especially if it was Narnian-made. At Cair Paravel, they had some of the finest threads and seamstresses in all the land, and Lucy was determined to make a beautiful dress for Caria.

Caria smiled again, recognizing a stubborn look when she saw on. "Alright, alright," she said, hiding a laugh behind her hand. "I will wear your silly dresses."

Lucy wanted to frown but instead grinned, clapping her hands.

They sent the rest of the morning together in Caria's room. Lucy had sent some Beavers to make frames for Caria's pictures and by noon they were hanging them up. Lucy stood in the middle of the room, hands on her hips as she directed Caria on where to hang the paintings.

"It's crooked," a new voice said as Caria adjusted the elusive painting of the lamppost. The two girls turned to see King Peter in the doorway.

"Is it?" Caria said, taking a step back to look at the painting.

"It's leaning to the right," King Peter said, coming forward and adjusting it.

"It looks like you've made it worse," Lucy exclaimed.

"Maybe the frame is crooked," Caria suggested.

"No, the Beavers wouldn't make a crooked frame," Lucy said. "It was fine before, Peter." She stepped past Caria and reached up to straighten it again.

"King Peter, do you recognize that painting?" Caria asked, curious if the older sibling also knew of the lamppost.

King Peter opened his mouth to reply and Caria was sure he was going to say yes when Lucy interrupted him. "Well, it's lunch time, isn't it? Let's go!"

"Susan arrange a picnic on the beach for lunch," King Peter said. "I came to fetch you both. And to ask you, Lucy, if you have that thing for Susan?" He looked at his sister knowingly.

"Oh!" Lucy exclaimed. "Susan's birthday! I almost forgot! Take Caria down to the beach. I will join you in a few minutes!" She rushed out of the room then, calling out to a "Mr. Tumnus."

"It's the Queen's birthday?" Caria asked, eyes widening as she realized she had nothing appropriate to wear to a celebration. "Oh, I have nothing to wear. This isn't appropriate at all."

"Well, the leggings are better than the trousers," King Peter joked, seeing a pair of tan trousers lying on the bed. "Besides, this is just lunch. The real party is tonight. I'm sure the seamstress can have a dress made by then." Caria made a face that caused King Peter to laugh. "I wouldn't want to wear a dress either," he said.

"I don't think anyone would make the King wear a dress," Caria mumbled. "It seems to be every girl's fate to wear dresses."

"Maybe just for the party you can suffer a dress?" King Peter said lightly, eyes twinkling.

"I'll wear whatever Queen Lucy makes me wear," Caria said as they walked down the wide staircase into the atrium. King Peter laughed again and Caria grimaced. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I should not complain. Queen Lucy is wonderful and you are all helping me, for which I am truly grateful."

"You are trusting us to help you, Caria," King Peter said as they crossed the threshold into the bright midday sun. "The trust you have placed in us makes you family, just as much as any other Narnian. And family can make fun of family. Do not apologize for being yourself."

Amazed at his wisdom, Caria was about to reply when they joined King Edmund on the path to the beach. The younger King had his eyes transfixed on the sky overhead. Caria followed his gaze - and her jaw dropped. Three or four creatures she had never seen before, not even in pictures, circled silently overhead. They had bodies of lions and wings of birds.

"Ho, Ed!" Peter said, catching his brother's attention. Caria looked back to King Edmund, seeing what appeared to be a rare smile before he drew his eyes away from the sky. The smile became an immediate scowl.

"What is she doing here?" he asked.

"Susan invited her," Peter said slowly.

"I thought we weren't having guests at our private family lunch," Edmund replied.

"We're on the beach, it's not that private," Peter retorted.

"She's not exactly family," King Edmund argued.

"Susan invited her, Lucy wants her there, and so do I," Peter said in a voice Caria was all too familiar with - a voice that dared Edmund to argue back, yet was so final that there was no room for argument.

"If I may," Caria said, glancing between the brothers before looking at Edmund squarely. "I've dealt with bullies before. King Peter said family is about trust and I'm trusting you to help me. That makes me family. You might be a King, sire, but you are still a bully and no bully deserves respect in my opinion."

Edmund stared at her a moment and then wheeled on peter who tried to hide a laugh behind his hand. "There's more to family than trust, Peter," he said slowly, and then turned and began walking back to the beach.

"Yes," Caria called after him, "but sometimes when your own family doesn't want you it's nice to know others do."

Edmund, his back to them, paused and stiffened. Then he kept walking, pretending he hadn't heard.

"I guess we have to follow him," King Peter said with a shrug. "The beach is that way." He began to follow his brother at a distance.

"I'm sorry if that was inappropriate of me," Caria said, falling into step beside him. "I do not want to have to argue or fight with him just to be accepted here. I will ignore his provocations next time."

"Probably best," Peter agreed. "He's not easy to get along with, especially when he insists on being so thick. But he's not a bad person."

"No, he's surely not a bad person," Caria said. "He just wants what is best for his family to keep them safe. But he is a bully."

Peter chuckled. "He is, I will admit that."

"What were those creatures flying in the sky?" Caria asked. Glancing up again, she noticed the winged Animals had left.

"Griffins," Peter answered. "Half-lion, half-eagle. They were probably scouting the surrounding woods to make sure we were safe."

"Are you not safe in the castle?" Caria looked towards the wood, worried some threat lay concealed within.

"Oh, very," Peter assured her. "But it doesn't hurt to be careful. Ever since the White Witch's defeat, we have had but one attack on the castle, by some of her loyal followers." He shrugged. "I like to think Cair Paravel is the safest place in all of Narnia, because we have Aslan watching over us all the time."

"But how do you know he is, if he's not here?"

"Well, there are you, Peter," cried Susan before Peter could answer. "Where's Lucy? The food is getting cold, what with you taking your time and all."

"Sorry, Susan," Peter laughed. "Lucy's getting something from her room."

"I'm here, I'm here!" Lucy called, running down the strand to meet them. A Faun came hurrying along behind her, and whispered something in her ear. Lucy quickly hid her hands behind her back, but Susan didn't seem to notice.

"Good, now we can eat," was all she said, gesturing to the arrangement of blankets and food set on the sand just out of reach of the tide. Edmund sat at the far end, with an assortment of desserts about him, dutifully ignoring Caria and complaining that the sun was too bright. Peter joined the Dryads who came to serve them as Lucy found a comfortable spot on the ground.

"What do you want us to do, Ed, turn off the sun?" She laughed and then gestured at the spot beside her. "Caria, come sit," she said.

Caria sat beside her and immediately Peter handed her a cup of wine. She tasted it and it was nothing like she had ever tasted before - sweet and not too strong, that warmed her on the inside.

"Peter, come sit," Susan insisted after they had all been served with plates of bread and butter and cold slices of meat.

"Caria, aren't you eating?" Lucy asked.

"It is custom to wait until the head of the house takes the first bite," she answered.

"That's a stupid custom," Edmund muttered around a bite of meat.

"It's respectful," Caria said pointedly.

"Well, you're allowed to eat," Peter said, taking a seat next to Susan. "But if it makes you feel better," and he took a large bite of bread.

They all ate with varying degrees of eagerness and speed. Lucy sat with her legs crossed chatting with Caria around mouthfuls of food. Susan sat straight and tall on her heels, like a "proper lady," Caria would have said, every bit a Queen. Edmund slouched, stuffing food into his mouth until he decided he could have dessert, rich chocolate cakes and lemon pies. The Faun. Mr. Tumnus, joined the conversation between Lucy and Caria, just as curious about their guest as Lucy. Halfway through the meal, a figure rose up out of the water, startling Caria - but Lucy explained she was "just a Naiad" and was soon deep in conversation with King Peter.

"You've never seen a Beaver before?" Lucy exclaimed after Caria commented on how many wonderful creatures she had seen since arriving.

"Well, Calormen is mostly desert," Caria said. "I don't think they live in deserts."

Lucy giggled. "No, but you must have seen pictures."

Caria shook her head. "I was not taught about animals outside of Calormen. My father liked to say that any animal or Being in Narnia was a savage creation and not worth talking about."

"I think the same could be said about people in Calormen," Edmund piped up.

"Edmund," Lucy chastised, aghast.

"I think my father was wrong," Caria said instead of replying to the younger King. "I passed through Archenland on my journey here and everyone I asked said wonderful things about _all _inhabitants of Narnia. The Calormenes are rather stubborn in their beliefs, but in just this little time you have proven them all delightfully wrong. I am glad to have come with the Archenlanders' praise and an open mind."

"And we are glad you came here at such a time as this," Susan said.

"Most of us," Edmund muttered into his goblet of wine.

"Edmund, would you shut your mouth for two minutes?" Peter sighed.

"It doesn't bother me, King Peter," Caria said.

"No, but it bothers me."

"Yes, mum," Edmund said, giving him a dark look.

Susan rested a hand on Peter's leg, silently telling him not to argue back. Caria often saw her mother use that same move on her father and was amazed at its universality. Instead of replying to their brother's taunts, Susan turned her smile to Caria. She was much like her mother, Caria realized with a pang of guilt. Ever the peace-maker.

"We don't get many visitors to Cair Paravel," she said.

"Especially human ones," Lucy added with a laugh that put a smile on all faces but one.

"Yes, no human visitors," Susan agreed. "It's a rare occurrence. But we are glad for the distraction."

Edmund made a disgruntled noise into his wine again and spluttered when Peter leaned over and smacked him over the head. "I didn't say anything," he protested.

"No, but you were thinking it," Caria said quietly.

Lucy giggled behind her hand at the incredulous, embarrassed look on Edmund's face.

"Caria, do you have siblings?" Susan asked, amazed, trying to hide her own laugh for her brother's benefit.

"No," Caria answered. "My good friend Vamar does. I just have my father, who is almost as intolerable."

"You're just going to let her sit there and insult me?" Edmund demanded, glaring first at Susan then Peter.

Peter shrugged. "I'm not going to say you don't deserve it, Ed."

Edmund looked helplessly to Susan, who ignored his pitiful look and dished out a slice of lemon pie to Lucy. "Well fine," he said and threw down his spoon. He got to his feet and trampled off, kicking up the sand as he went.

Peter laughed at his display and Caria found herself smiling until something inexplicable happened and she was startled into uncomfortable silence. A tremendous roar tore through the woods and echoed across the beach. Caria looked towards the trees, terrified, but the others present hadn't seemed to notice the noise. Lucy was still happily eating her pie and Peter continued to joke about Edmund's embarrassment just before he had left. Shocked, Caria looked to the Faun and Dryads, but they seemed just as oblivious. Shaking her head and turning back to the group, she thought she saw movement out of the corner of her eye - a flash of gold, much like Peter's bright hair. But Peter was sitting across from her and when she glanced aside the figure had passed and could not be seen.

Caria wondered if it even existed.


End file.
